


Guilty

by Ydream08



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Beards (Facial Hair), Complete, F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-War, Regret, Self-Discovery, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, hermione granger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ydream08/pseuds/Ydream08
Summary: Ron didn't love her. Though she was bitter, she remained friends for Harry's sake. How could she deny him? Harry was her everything. She wanted to be there for him, as he did for her. It took Ginny and Harry to get back together to realize that Harry meant much more for her. She has to stick to the role of best friend because she doubts Harry wishes for something more. But perhaps?





	1. Chapter 1

 

* * *

 

Nothing mattered. Whether it be their dispute, her anger from his dismissal of her, his love-sick behaviour to Lavender or his hurtful words accusing her of jealously. None of that was at the forefront of her mind as Hermione rushed to the Hospital Wing. Not that they would change what constricted her heart, busied her mind or overall hit her the moment she received the news.

Colin Creevey, as was the news reporter in Hogwarts, had caught wind of the latest occurrence and barged into the Gryffindor common room early in the morning. If it were not for him, it would have taken the Weasley children much longer to learn what had happened to their brother. For Professor McGonagall the priority was to reach their parents, afterall.

Ginny had been up early, already prepared for her Quidditch practice before breakfast. She would play through the meal, most probably, as Harry had increased the practice schedule in a frenzy.

Hermione had been awake longer than her, though. She was curled in an armchair downstairs, reading a book Nott had recommended. Hermione's civil conversation with Nott in the library, regardless of how absurd and unbelievable it had been, was forgotten when the Slytherin's recommended book turned out to be worth the read. Hermione had stayed awake to read it, actually.

That's how, Hermione had been present when Colin panted in front of Ginny, forcing the words out: "Ron…poison…Pomfrey…"

Ginny paled. "Wait, Colin, say that again?"

"Your brother, he's in the hospital wing! I went to talk with Madame Pomfrey—Snape had left me for detention, you know. I'm going to brew—"

"Colin!"

"Yes, sorry! Harry was there, too. I think he's okay, but they were talking about poison—"

Hermione didn't stay longer to hear the rest. As she dashed out first, it was no wonder she beat Ginny to arrive first in the Hospital Wing.

When she saw Ron lying in the hospital bed, sick and pale, Hermione overlooked everything that strained their friendship –or what was left of it- and focused on here and now.

He needed her, so she would be with him.

Hermione's eyes strayed to Harry's and the next moment, he was explaining her what had happened. Hermione sat next to Ron, holding his hand and rubbing her thumb in circles absentmindedly as she listened to Harry tell the event a second time when the Weasleys arrived. All of them.

It was when, at last, Fred and George, too, occupied the perimeter of Ron's bed that a shriek pierced the relieved but sad atmosphere of the hospital wing. The twins were separated by arms that quickly revealed a blonde witch.

"Won-won!"

Hermione was acutely aware of a few set of eyes observing her, just as well, how slowly she turned to face the source of her headache. Sometimes…when Hermione was feeling sympathetic and comparatively sane about the subject, she could admit that Lavender was not the reason of her heart ache.

Sure, Lavender loved to rub it in her face that she and Ron were lovers, and it had become a hobby of the fellow Gryffindor to accuse Hermione of one jealousy or the other. Hermione surely had to be upset about how Ron didn't sit with her in the Charms lesson, right? Or how it was not her that he snogged in front of the whole Gryffindor lot, in the common room at the busiest hour? Hermione must be fuming about that, the very least!

Even though all of those interactions with the petty girl tired Hermione, it was Ron who shattered her heart repeatedly. It had not been different back in their fourth year, so why would it be different now? It was him who never noticed her kindness towards him. Her adoring stares, blushing sighs, anxious stammering were all brushed aside until Ron poked fun of her to the point that she broke and scolded him the same as any teacher. Then came the comments about how she was a snuck-up, arrogant, impatient, bookish know-it-all. Also the teacher's pet. Never forget that.

Ron had been oblivious to Hermione's feelings. He was busy with Lavender and his unreasonable hatred toward Cormac McLaggen. It humoured Hermione to imagine Ron being jealous of her, with how Cormac openly admitted he fancied her. But even that didn't sit well with her, after seeing Ron's enmity toward the wizard especially during Quidditch. She had to be realistic, Hermione chided herself often.

Hermione cleared her mind of all of that. Nothing mattered, she reminded herself. Ron had been poisoned. He was recovering. When he woke up, he would be delighted to see her. She would nurture him back to health, helping Madame Pomfrey with his care and copying notes and bringing homework for him. Who would look after him better?

Ron would wake up to realize his love for her.

That's why Lavender Brown's presence was like a needle to her hope-filled balloon. The way she rushed to Ron's side, brushed his fringe aside and repeated that ridiculous nickname of his? Hermione scowled, both at the display and the weight that dropped in her stomach. It twisted her feelings in a funny way. Not exactly rage…

"Lavender."

The soft voice was almost like a whisper. Hermione wouldn't have heard if she wasn't as close to Ron as she was. Harry wouldn't have heard if he wasn't standing right behind her.

The rest needn't hear as Lavender spoke up, "I'm here, my honey-bear. Your Lav-lav wouldn't leave you for the world, hear me? I'll be here as long as you ask of me."

There was a lump in Hermione's throat, and she felt like somebody had kicked her in the guts. What Lavender last said was obviously meant for her, and the jab hurt more than Hermione could have imagined.

"Excuse me," Hermione mumbled. It was surprising how easily Ron's hand slipped away from hers.

Hermione was out the doors of the Hospital Wing before anyone could see her tears. 

* * *

She could see his appeal. She had never been immune to all of his features that once been what made her fall in love with him. It was just that… once everything was past, she could see more to him than that.

Hermione realized how thoughtless and rude he was. How selfish and obnoxious. Petulant and prejudicial.

To Harry, Ron was still his best friend, though. And indirectly, so was hers. Hermione resented playing nice with him. Most of the time he tried her patience. Not to mention, he had become insufferable after his break-up with Lavender. He had had to end their relationship so this Horcrux hunt could be.

How gracious of him! Not like Harry and Hermione sacrificed anything, right? It was always Ronald Weasley. He acted as though he didn't know of Harry and Ginny's relationship, so it was only him who left behind a lover. Had to put the desire of his heart aside to save the world.

It was only him who had a family to worry about, too. That opinion was known when the selfish prick shouted at Harry exactly that.

"You wouldn't know what it feels like! YOUR PARENTS ARE DEAD!"

There was a ringing in Hermione's ears. It lasted even after when she managed to get Harry off of Ron. It lasted as Ron headed to the mouth of their tent and turned to her.

"You're coming, right, 'mione?"

Her brows knitted together and Hermione tried to focus on Ron. It felt like she broke for air after staying inside water for hours, when she finally inhaled to answer him.

"I'm staying."

Of course, would he ever think of her? Would he ever stop and consider her more than a moment? She was always the afterthought. Just how he remembered her just now as he was leaving. If it wasn't the case, Ron would have thought better than shout things like only he had family. That he was sick with worry. Hermione quickly squashed the little part of her that claimed he couldn't possibly know the state of her parents as she hadn't told either of her friends, but Hermione grudgingly wished Ron to be more considerate. Just. Just that.

Hermione stared at empty space where the half-open exit of their tent shifted with the hallow wind. If not that day in the Hospital Wing last year, this was the proof that nothing could ever come of Ron Weasley. For her at least. She hardly doubted he could be her friend again, in fact.

What a foolish little girl she had been! To have a crush on such a git? She blamed herself.

She recalled how a mantra of how she belittled herself had been stuck in her mind: She was not good enough. She was a freak. An oddity. Too mature for her peers, her mother had said. That was a lie. She was just a know-it-all. She should be grateful that she had friends like Harry and Ron. She should be thanking stars and back that she found friends who tolerated her. She didn't even deserve Ron more than friends. She was a mudblood, as Malfoy reminded her. She was beneath all. An awkward, ugly person, that's what she was. But she had her friends. Her presence for them was tolerable. So it was sensible that perhaps one of her friends would like her… like her more than friends. She should be grateful if that happens, if any of her friends think of her more. It's unlikely. Ron, perhaps. Because she only deserves that. She deserves his insults. The way he talks about her dress, her date with Krum and McLaggen. Because he likes her that he insults her. She would have his fancy for anything. She wasn't even pretty enough to be with him so why did she…

Hermione struggled to quite down the thoughts but tears streamed to her cheeks before she could stop, and she hated that Harry was there to see her like that. She had forgotten about him, but when he came to hug her and wipe away her tears, Hermione realized she had Harry with her. As he removed the Locket from her neck, he was so gentle that it made her cry harder! How could she forget Harry? Harry was someone who cared for her in equal measure as her. He was mature to acknowledge his mistakes and he was a person who was delicate with other people's boundaries. He was considerate to her. A true friend, Hermione deduced and hid her face in his jumper.

Blast it if he thought she was crying for Ron's abandonment. She cried for her loathsome thoughts and demeaning opinions. All of them were from a 'past her'.

She had outgrown them. She really did.

Then why didn't tears  _stop_?

* * *

It felt surreal that everything was over. There were smoke, crackles, explosions… Cries, shouts, exclamations… The scenery was more than Hermione could take in so her eyes found something familiar to ground herself.

The Weasleys were all gathered in the Great Hall. Mrs. Weasley crouched next to her deceased son and constantly caressed his hair as she cried, cried and cried. George was no different. Neither was Mr. Weasley. Ron hugged his mother, hardly keeping her together. Although he stood awkwardly apart from the family, Percy was a sobbing mess, too. Charlie and Bill were around as well, stoic and silent. Not so far away, Hermione's eyes rested on the one unchangeable variable of her life: Harry.

His hair was dirty. Mostly grey because of all the dust and smoke. His glasses were croocked because of the witch crying on his chest, but Hermione guessed they were broken because of the battle, too. It was Ginny who hung to Harry as though he was a life-line. Her shrill sobs were distinguishable even if Hermione was across the Hall. She could see how the red-head desperately held on to Harry. He consoled her to the best of his abilities, running his hand up and down her back, but Hermione noticed the lifeless colour to his eyes.

They held their gazes together and Hermione knew Harry mourned no one, at that moment. He just lived. Breathed. Nothing more. He was not well enough to  _feel_. Yet he was there, borrowing the burden of sorrow from his girlfriend.

That's what they were. Wasn't it?

Hermione felt out of place even when she was not remotely close to the family where she stood across the Hall. She sighed and looked away. She had to pick her life from where she left off, too.

Harry had done exactly that, made amends with Ginny. Ron wasn't as lucky with how Lavender had perished in the Battle.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hermione wished she could have done more than lunge at Ron with a rucksack and leaves she fisted from the ground. It would have been more satisfying to slap him like she had done Malfoy in third year—with how Harry had retained her wand, that was the most creative she could have gotten._

_But truthfully, she was just so tired. So very tired. The hunt stretched out, no hope whatsoever in the horizon, and no peace for her and Harry at the brink of Ron's abandonment. Although, there was a silent acceptance whenever the two of them shut the outside world._

_That was all true until the daft glutton came in like beam of sunshine, a smile to his face, waiting for a hug or something that he returned._

_After she took out her frustration, the news of the locket's demise and arrival of Gryffindor's sword helped Hermione make peace with the presence of her childhood crush._

_Harry was there to soften the conversation, or warn her with a certain quirk to his eyebrows whenever Hermione pierced Ron with her looks, or when needlessly harsh words shot out of her mouth._

_"_ _You alright?" Harry would whisper when Ron was not so far away to watch the campsite._

 _"_ _Yeah, I'm perfectly fine." Harry looked funny at her scowl. "It's just- nothing is as they used to be anymore."_

_Harry shrugged, as if to say that was given, but Hermione didn't let go the intuition as easily. Because it wasn't about the war, what she was feeling._

_That feeling was overwhelming when she and Ron destroyed the Hufflepuff's Cup in the Chamber of Secrets. When Ron glanced at her in a way that she had wished he would have looked at her the past two years. He acted to grab her to perhaps steal a kiss. Hermione wouldn't know, because s_ _he acted first, instead, grabbing the sword and nodding at him. "Let's head up. It's not over yet."_

_That couldn't be said for their… friendship? Is that what they had? As long as Ron looked at her that way, she doubted Hermione could see the boy she laughed at his antics, admired for his chess-play or acknowledged best for his loyalty._

_She doubted she could find that boy. This young man had hurt her too much for Hermione to give him a second chance. She couldn't look for that boy before pealing away her resentment, chagrin and guilt._

* * *

She was at Fred's funeral, regardless. She couldn't just tear herself away from Ron—from the Weasleys. There was much history there.

Fred was her friend, foremost. Had been.

Nevertheless, Hermione had pointedly stood by Harry instead of next to Ron.

Ginny was once again crying on the shoulder of the raven-haired young man. Ron was at her side, grasping her shoulder while he cried himself. The rest of the Weasleys were at that side as well.

Hermione only had Harry next to her.

Only he saw her tears and listened to her sobs.

She didn't know when, it was the umpteenth time she wiped away her face with her hands, tried to reign in her wheezing. She felt her back stroked, calming her down. Then when the motion stopped, a hand slipped into hers.

Hermione looked to the hand holding hers—bigger, strong, fingers long and thin. She followed the arm attached, and finally her eyes met with Harry's.

More tears stung her eyes, and her breath caught.

Hermione wiped away her eyes with her free-hand, and fiercely nodded her thanks to Harry.

This pain and devastation was perhaps the first version experienced as uncontrolled and open. No fear, paranoia, anxiety or hopelessness tainted them.

War was over and they mourned.

More awaited them.  _Tonks, Lupin, Colin, Susan Bones, Narcissa Malfoy…_

Harry squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

* * *

The Burrow was eerily quiet. Mrs. Weasley's household charms were on hold and nothing cooked in the kitchen. Mr. Weasley was away in the Ministry as was Percy. The normally crowded living room was occupied only by her, Harry and Ginny. The rest was scattered around. Hermione only knew that George was locked in his room.

He hadn't come out since Fred's funeral.

It's been two weeks.

When Hermione read the same sentence for the tenth time, she at last closed the book. This was making her restless. This…this  _waiting._

They were waiting for a miracle. All of them.

Tears stung her eyes at the thought of it, but Hermione could admit that every single occupant of the house was  _waiting_  for the ones they lost to barge in from the front door and realize that everything had been a dream. A nightmare.

Hermione couldn't take this anymore. Not when she felt restrained from searching for her parents. She had to review the counter-curse to unlock their minds, then track them down in Australia. She wanted to have them beside her just as Ron had his parents. Just as Ginny had them.

Most importantly, Hermione was aware she was having problems in her mind. She begun having nightmares. Silencing charms around her room prevented her from scaring the hell out of people –it wouldn't be kind to wake people to screams as though she was Crucio'd- but the past few days she woke up with cuts and bruises. Yesterday, being woken up in the kitchen, she realized she sleepwalked. Merlin knew how much worse this could progress, but Hermione didn't want to get admitted to St. Mungo's just yet.

She had to find her parents. The sooner, the better.

She had to get away.

Her eyes finding Harry, she looked at the couple who hadn't moved since she arrived in the room. Harry sat at the end of the couch, his hand holding up his head as though his thoughts weighted it down tremendously. Ginny lied down, with her head resting on his thighs, and her eyes were closed as she breathed softly. Probably asleep.

Harry's hands absentmindedly played with Ginny's hair.

Hermione's eyes strayed to his fingers. Red locks slid from between them as if water. He occasionally grabbed a few strands, gently, and twirled it around his finger. Ginny's hair immediately turned into their straight formation, not maintaining the curl Hermione naturally sported.

Without realising, her own fingers reached for her hair. It was soft but handful in her palm. She let go and opted to take a hold of a single curl. That was much more fun to play with. She used to do this in the History of Magic class. Professor Binns used to have the ability to entrance them, the lesson felt as if listening to a story.

The movement in front of her eyes stopped. So did Hermione. She woke up from her stupor and found Harry sighing. He messed his hair and helplessly removed his glasses. With the hand that no longer played with Ginny's hair, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Harry?" Her whisper caught his attention and Hermione mimicked the small smile that turned his lips. A sweet warmth enveloped her as she looked at him. He was Harry, her Harry. From his messy hair, to his quirk to push back his glasses. Her eyes blurred with tears as she couldn't form the words. She desperately hoped Harry would agree with her.

She felt so alone and trapped here. Awkward and unwanted.

His brows creased as his lips formed her name. "Hermione?"

She couldn't look him in the eyes as she asked. She, instead, stared at his lips. Praying for them to move in affirmation when she asked.

"Can we go, Harry? Stay somewhere else?"

* * *

"Kingsley said they could use more Aurors," Harry blurted out. Hermione rose her gaze from her plate and stopped chewing her pancake. Harry had his back turned to her, currently at the process of cooking another pancake, so Hermione had a few moments to catch up to what he was saying.

He closed the stove and slid the pancake onto a plate, then put the pan back. When he sat down once again, Harry took his time before elaborating. "He said I can join the training."

"Well, Professor McGonagall is yet to send for the graduation details." Hermione said as if that was the end of conversation, but doubt crept into her tone. Did Harry consider to join without taking his N.E.W.T.s?

His brows knitted together but he didn't respond still.

"We can study together and take our exams together. Maybe after that—"

She was interrupted by Ron's voice. "Mate, you awake?"

The smell of the pancake must have lead the way, and in the blink of an eye, Ron entered the kitchen. He swatted his sweatshirt to get rid of the soot and wiped his hands on his jeans afterwards.

Hermione scrunched her face when he reached for a piece of cheese. "Hands, Ronald."

"I'm not staying," Ron replied and shot her a grin. "Hey, Harry, you owled Kingsley back, yeah? He waits us in the Ministry."

Hermione turned to Harry this time. No person could be more uncomfortable while ignoring the presence of one another. Harry fidgeted as his eyes found Ron.

"I'll grab my things, then we can go."

Hermione wanted to intervene, ask what was the matter with Harry. Surely he didn't wish to pursue this…proposition without finishing his school first. And what was with Ron? Was this how a best friend should behave? He was practically dragging Harry along!  _It's been only two months,_  her mind screamed. Harry shouldn't be jumping to every opportunity that presented itself!

When Harry got to his feet before she could say anything, Hermione lost no time to follow him. She left a Ron nicking food from the table to catch up with her bespectacled friend.

"Harry, wait—"

She took the stairs three at a time, but just when Harry was in her reach, his bedroom door closed on her face.

She groaned. Knocking the door, she called for him.

"You can't just drop Hogwarts, Harry. What about the exams? You aren't qualified to be an Auror without them. This is serious, Harry. You can't possibly —"

The door abruptly opened that left her hand in the air. His emerald green eyes held her gaze.

"Yes, I can."

He persisted forward and forced Hermione to move away. Her eyes strayed to his hands that fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. He had changed into black slacks and a white-button up shirt. Formal. For a job interview.

Not that she thought there was going to be one.

Hermione was on his tow as he went downstairs. She hated the house-elf heads hanging above the stairs as they made their way, but she and Harry hadn't got the chance to redecorate Grimmauld Place before inhabiting it. It was one funeral after the other. They had needed a place to sleep and for the first time the Burrow had felt far from home to them. Granted, Hermione had asked to move out, but Harry hadn't been eager to stay, she learned.

"Why, Harry? Don't you need time?" Hermione knew, as she asked, they were actually the reasons why she would take everything slowly herself. Very slowly.

Since the news of her father's death during the War, Hermione required peace of mind. Something she wouldn't obtain in the near future. Regardless of the Sleeping Draughts stocked in her drawer.

"It's still too early to decide what you want to do with your life. Nobody expects you to spring back and fight dark wizards, for Godric's sake. You haven't even graduated yet."

Harry halted at the end of the stairs. Hermione nearly slipped and fell when she stopped with him.

"I have to move on," Harry gritted out. He clenched his hands to fists. "I can't live as if the war hasn't ended, holed up in here."

Hermione's eyes popped open. Was coming here a mistake? Did she cause him distress? She didn't mean to, but neither of them had anywhere else to go. Her parents' house was in shambles. The Death Eaters that were sent after them had burnt it down to the ground. The Private Drive had never been an option, either.

"Sirius' room is the same. His broom is on his desk where he left it. Did you know he polished it every day? When he woke up?"

Hermione touched Harry's shoulder and only then did he turn around. In a swift motion, both pulled each other to an embrace. As Hermione was up two stairs, Harry buried his face to her chest for a change.

She brushed his hair as tears fell to her own cheeks. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

He sniffed, but aside from his firm grip, Harry made no move to show he was even breathing. Then, he slowly extracted himself. His eyes were red rimmed, but he smiled tiredly.

"I want to do this. Be an Auror. I've been doing it all my life, actually. Shouldn't be that hard. I'm the Chosen One, right?"

Hermione snorted but didn't object. Fine. If he wanted to chase bad guys and eat himself away with the stress of it, that was his choice to make. She couldn't tell him what to do. She could, however, help shoulder that stress and chide him to eat and sleep in the meanwhile. Well, that, if she could extract herself from research.

She still needed to find the proper counter-curse of Obliviate for her mother. She wouldn't let her rot in the Psychiatry Ward of St. Mungo's.

"You know where to find me if you're in trouble. But, please, come before a death peril."


	3. Chapter 3

It was one of their fights again. There were three kinds that you could choose from: "I'm not ready for anything more, Ginny.", "I aim higher than Harpies so I won't sit around, Harry." or "You're never  _with_  me, Ginny.".

First few times when Hermione sensed Harry and Ginny's relationship wore down, Hermione had made her scarce to let them argue it out. They had put silencing charms for privacy so aside from the seldom strain to their presences, Hermione tried not to mind.

The palpable silence of the two lovers hardly ended in favour of Hermione, though.

Harry would always come looking for her in the aftermath. She would either be in the library or in her room, and it would be a scare to know her best friend arrived by his slam of the door.

"She thinks about herself!" he had cried out once. It was one of the arguments Hermione hadn't been privy to—before they skipped the use of Mufiliato to get on each others' throats. " _Only_ herself, Hermione!"

Hermione felt like an intruder when Harry vented to her, instead of shouting in general in the library, requesting only her presence. These moments she felt like he asked more of her: to mend his broken heart, to lessen the tension in his shoulders, to soothe him that he could choose what he wanted for his life for once.

"I don't mind Quidditch! She could join the Harpies, rise to the international platform all I care, and make a career for herself! I wouldn't mind—she is already disappearing on me for weeks with practices. I can handle that. Sure, she is busy. I'm busy, too, sometimes!"

Closing her book and putting it aside, Hermione would rise to stand beside him.

"It's not only that, though," he would whisper when he felt her touch on his shoulder. His fire would extinguish just like that. "It's other things… whenever she is upset, it's about Fred. I try to comfort her- but I can't the way she wants. I just—I really can't- not now, you know. And she persists, something is wrong with not- not—she's been nothing but selfish!"

Hermione only now knew that Harry and Ginny were arguing about the physical part of their relationship the most. While the grief and burden from the war was still fresh with only two months since the funerals, Harry has been reclusive and avoiding. He barely talked some days, let alone accepting a hug in consolation. Ginny was the opposite. Having grown in a loved family, and being at a point in her life that she wanted something more than familial love, she coped with grief differently. The more this conflict put distance with their relationship, the more Harry had become stressed.

He loved her, truly.

"Also small things, you know," he would continue. By then Hermione would be playing with his hair, having sat down in the couch. He let her touch him that way, just the barest of brushes on his hair that let him know she was there. "I want somebody to care for me beyond the-Boy-Who-Lived. How can she care about me if she forgets to tell me about a day out with friends? Doesn't even ask me later how I spend my days! Auror business this and that, she says. Little things like that. It feels like we're living separate lives."

Hermione tried to tune out the fight this time, but it easily reached to her room on the second floor of Grimmauld Place, because the two lovers opted to shout at the top of their lungs.

It had occurred to Hermione that perhaps she could put charms around her room instead, to make it soundproof, but she had never done in the end.

She knew the reason why.

Not just out of curiosity, her action was. It was just that… when it came to Harry, she had to know.

She had tried her hardest to stand aside from Harry and Ginny's relationship- she really had.

The shouts stopped. Hermione heard angry steps climbing stairs. Her door was open and slammed shut just as quickly. At the look of total break-down in Harry's emerald eyes, Hermione closed her book and straightened her lounging on her bed.

She just couldn't. Couldn't stand aside.

He walked to her and sat beside her. He heavily breathed for moments that felt like hours. Then he crawled to lie down, his head in her lap, and heaved.

Hermione didn't once stop caressing his black strands.

* * *

One week after Harry's unravelling, he had quit Auror training and become a free man to rise whenever he desired.

When Hermione woke up, he was whistling to a tune, a spatula in his hand and cooking breakfast.

"What's the occasion?" Hermione asked. Unemployed and not yet back to school, she could be a mess in the morning. Her hair in disarray, not out of her chequered pyjama bottoms and simple flannel. But to see Harry in such state was impossible. Thus why her surprise. It didn't go with his tune, either.

His hair was messier than usual, more than a few strands sticking out. His glasses were crooked, and he kept correcting them with the hand that held spatula. Luckily he wasn't spreading the egg around his clothes. They looked worn out without being dirty. Actually, was that a tear in his black shirt? Close to his collar?

"Occasion?" Harry asked, confused for a moment. Then he grinned. "Not something grand, I suppose."

Hermione perched on her chair and stretched out a,  _Mmmmhmmmm_.

Just when she was fed up with this suspicious happy mood Harry had, in entered a redhead wearing Harry's grey shirt.

Hermione's eyes popped out of their sockets, to say the least, as she blushed at the white legs Ginny displayed courageously.

Her red hair was rumpled in a way that Hermione had seen Lavender used to have when she sneaked back to their dormitory room late in the nights. Back when she saw Ron.

There was a pang in Hermione's heart, and the squeeze seemed to last forever even after Ginny rose to her tiptoes and pecked Harry on the lips.

If it weren't for Hermione, they would keep on from where they had left off, apparently.

Hermione stuffed the silly urge to cry, and concentrated on her breathing. Her eyes itched.  _Maybe she should leave._

Leave, she did.

* * *

_Dear Headmistress McGonagall,_

_I'm pleased to hear the option of returning to repeat our missed seventh year in Hogwarts, however, I was wondering if there was a possibility to sit the exams without coming back—_

Hermione stalled her writing. Perhaps she should go to Hogwarts. She has become an extra here. With how much time Ginny was spending around the past two weeks, it could perhaps be better she dislocated herself from their lives- Harry's life.

He came to sit with Hermione time to time. When he wasn't with Ginny that was. But Hermione just couldn't talk with him as they used to. Couldn't be in his presence as she used to. Although he came searching for her and patiently waited for her to take a notice of him, Hermione stubbornly tried to put a distance with Harry.

He huffed and left eventually.

Lately, he stayed shorter if he came at all actually. But it was for the better, Hermione knew. The reason why she felt so trapped and worthless here had become clear on the day that Harry and Ginny made out in front of her.

Hermione… well she…she l-lo… she  _loved_  Harry. More than a best friend should. Unlike a best friend should.

That was why she couldn't stand that Harry and Ginny were moving on with their relationship. They looked like they had found a common ground, both relenting a bit on their principles. And it felt wrong for Hermione to intrude that. To strip Harry from that chance.

Hermione cleared her thoughts from that and opted to concentrate on her letter. She had intended to take the exams from outside, and move out to her parents' house in the mean while, but thinking again, perhaps going back to Hogwarts could help her bury these unwelcomed feelings.

She would come back a year later as a proper best friend to Harry, having moved on.

Crumpling the offensive letter, Hermione wrote again.

_Dear Headmistress McGonagall,_

_I'd be delighted to come back to Hogwarts to repeat my seventh year. I can as well come earlier to help with the reconstruction. I'll be waiting your reply._

_Sincerely,_

_H. J. Granger_

Hermione gave the letter to the owl. There were only two weeks left of the start of the semester, but it would do no good to linger about.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_She hated zippers. Her raincoat had zippers on its hoodie as if that made sense! And the front zipper –the main one- came up until it covered the level of her nose. No wonder her hair got caught up in both._

_Crying in pain and annoyance, Hermione considered just ripping her hair away from the cursed coat!_

_"_ _Let me get that," came a voice and all of a sudden hands replaced her own and a familiar grin occupied her sight. She couldn't see higher than his lips, with how her head was stuck._

_His cologne was faint and he smelled sweaty- not that it bothered her. Not much anyway. It was normal, with how he had probably only recently come back from work. Auror training was as physical as was magical._

_"_ _You never change," he muttered, his smile never dropping. Hermione scowled, even as he took half a step back to admire his handy work and put her hair back her ear. She prayed she hadn't flushed_ _scarlet._

_"_ _My hair never changes, more like it." She huffed. It was not a matter of joke. Sometimes her hair drove her nuts._

_"_ _It's what makes you, you." He shrugged, his eyes lingering on her again._

_He scratched the back of his head and looked away. "I better take a shower, Weasleys await."_

* * *

_She never heard the crash of the book that had slipped from her fingers._

_"_ _You sure you're alright there, Hermione?" came the voice of her rescuer._

_It was him who had caught the book before it had fallen, apparently. Seeker reflexes, and all._

_"_ _Perfectly fine!" Hermione insisted. She was a bit annoyed that she couldn't find any reference to cures –potions, spells, rituals, anything- that could help a mind broken magically._

_Death Eaters had found her parents before she did, she had found out. Her mother had lost more than memories of her. She understood Neville better now._

_Hermione came down the sliding stairs of the library. That book Harry held would be the last one she would look in the Black Library. She would not accept defeat on her research, but there was only so much she could find here. Grimmauld Place didn't have the extensive collection that Hogwarts did. Books were simply nasty here._

_"_ _Here you go," Harry handed the book. His fingers touching hers briefly, Hermione cleared her throat to get back a semblance._

_These little things were becoming odd for her. As well as seeing Harry. He had grown a stubble and let his hair down, too. It wasn't enough to tie back, but Hermione got the feeling that he aimed for that._

_Hermione questioned herself why she liked his new transition instead of mocking this drastic change as she had done the weird cuts she had given him during the hunts._

_"_ _Thank you. I'll be off—"_

_"_ _To read." He smiled._

* * *

_Hermione stopped in her tracks when she saw how crowded the kitchen table was. There at the corner, Harry was sat with a pile in his own lap skimming the writings._

_"_ _What's this?" she asked as she continued with her initial goal: a cup of tea._

_She didn't see Harry's eyes flicker up to her but just as quickly turning back to his work. Not hearing a reply, she asked again. She needed to do that frequently these days. He and Ginny had a rough fight at the start of the week, and Harry had been less… attentive, in general._

_Hermione was awed he could even function in the auror training. His stubble was getting thicker. She realized how he played with it while reading._

_"_ _Homework. Not that they say it is."_

_Hermione gave a non-committal 'hmm' as she put the kettle on. There was silence as she prepared her tea._

_Out of curiosity, Hermione found herself going through the pages, running them down with her eyes. She refrained moving them about. They were mock-cases, some spells and instructions, general rules to follow during emergencies, and whatnot. She eventually came by Harry to look over his shoulder to what exactly he was reading among this mess._

_She had not known he would be as messy as her when he studied. Sure, she had taken a glimpse back in fourth year but during Harry was set to prepare for the second task in the library, Hermione was there along with him to bury her nose in books. She had barely noticed his style of research._

_"_ _It's in protocol to learn Alohomora wandlessly?" Hermione's surprise jumped Harry. He had forgotten about her, apparently. Hermione leaned over him to get a better look at the parchment, and she couldn't believe her eyes. "It's a rare talent, not everyone can learn it at the drop of a hat! And you're only in training!"_

_Hermione rose her head at the snicker but coming so close with Harry chased away her annoyance immediately. Her cheeks burned, her arm and hand still feeling warm where they had been contact with him._

_She shouldn't have invaded his space. It was just a habit… All those years in school and their research back in the hunt, it had always been normal for Hermione to be in close proximity with her boys._

_Well, her and Ron's closeness had ended with sixth year and had only become pathetically awkward in the hunt._

_"_ _Are you telling me I'm incapable, Miss Granger?"_

_Hermione opened and closed her mouth, flustered that Harry would twist her words like that._

_"_ _I was just pointing out—"_

_"_ _An old protocol, Hermione. Back when certain enchanted keys were not invented. And yes, it is a rare talent."_

_Hermione pursed her lips. "You are the Chosen One."_

_At that Harry laughed. Another thing that was rare. Something much much more valuable._

_"_ _I have already ended Voldemort as the Chosen One, I'm not going to learn wandless magic, too."_

_"_ _That if you can," Hermione found herself saying automatically and regretted the moment it came out her mouth. She sometimes forgot to think twice._

_"_ _You doubt the Saviour of the Wizarding World, oh great founder of SPEW?"_

_At that both laughed while Hermione tried to stop Harry from recounting every ridiculous idea of hers. Even luring Umbridge to the Forbidden Forest._

_"_ _Genius, but ridiculous still. When you said weapon, and I realized you were lying, I thought Hermione Granger finally made the most stupid call of her life."_

_Hermione's smile was still there. "We pulled it off like always. You got lucky."_

_"_ _You got lucky, miss."_

* * *

_"_ _You're knitting?" Ginny asked, her face scrunched. She never liked anything house-related. Her idea of independence heavily depended on what Molly Weasley did not do. "And that's wool, Hermione. We're in summer, not winter."_

_"_ _That's because she will finish it by then," Harry provided with a mischievous smile. It was reminiscent of their old days, but Ron wasn't there to keep the light-hearted jabs_ _._

_Ginny shrugged instead and plopped down next to Harry. They had returned from a date. Ginny had finished practice early today._

_Hermione could see the tension as Harry awkwardly sat without a word. If it were Ron and Lavender in the same range while sitting, Ron would have had his arm around Lavender and she would have put a hand on his thigh._

_Hermione was yet to comprehend that Lavender was gone. Dead. She was not outside of Hermione's doors, living her small life that would seldom intersect with Hermione. That's why it was odd how easily Hermione could mention or remember the girl._

_"_ _I'm not that slow!" Hermione found her voice. "It will be ready in two months. It's just a scarf, anyway."_

_Welcoming the distracting conversation, Harry locked his eyes with her. His nervousness due to Ginny seem to ease. "What excuse do you have for colours, Hermione? Red and green?"_

_"_ _Christmas colours," Hermione insisted but she smiled nevertheless._

_"_ _I'll wear half of it._ Gryffindor _half." Harry grinned at the roll of her eyes._

_"_ _Do whatever you like."_

_"_ _Don't I always?"_

_"_ _Mum was asking about you," Ginny asked to change the subject. Change it did._

* * *

Second month of Hogwarts was going excruciatingly boring. And lonely. Irritating. Sorrowful.

Why had she thought it was a bright idea?

The number of students had dwindled visibly. Hermione could name the empty seats of the Gryffindor table. Colin Creevey being the one that generally brought tears to her eyes. They had put the photos he had taken to the common room; the muggle photos were all that left of a cheerful boy.

"Problem in paradise," Nott murmured and sat across her. Loneliness gave chance to some interesting friends. Friends that chased away the clouds above her head.

She and Nott only shared dinners together. With how Hermione couldn't sleep till morning and would wake afternoon, that was the only available time. Eighth years were not required of attendance.

Hermione looked down at the Prophecy Nott slid over the table, and she forgot to breathe as she read the headline.

_SAVED THE WORLD BUT LOST THE GIRL_

It was painfully obvious whom this header belonged to, but Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the wizarding photo that repeatedly played as Harry punched some guy as Ginny gasped in shock nearby.

Skimming the article Hermione saw another photo, claimed to be taken four months back. Mid July. They speculated it was an on-going affair.

"So…" Nott stretched out. Hermione was aware of his calculating glances at her. She was his only friend around here. Only reason people seemed to become immune to his presence, tolerate it even.

Malfoy was not allowed the same courtesy.

Hermione looked up at Nott and found that she had nothing to say. Not a single idea came forth.

"Do you leave? Like now?" Nott questioned. At her silence, an alternative that made sense to Hermione came. "You can owl him?"

"I can do that." It was logical. News like these were hardly correct. She shouldn't jump at the opportunity—

Wait, did she really think that?

Hermione groaned, wanting to kick herself. She would not do something like that. Something like…like taking advantage of the situation. Filling the space Ginny left.

Even though the thought was absurd, it was just as compelling. She felt guilty for that.

Knowing that Nott couldn't  _read_  her mind, she tried to convey nothing was a miss. She failed spectacularly; she understood that from the odd look Nott was giving her, but she stared at him regardless and talked about their Transfiguration essay instead.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm new to AO3 and apparently had the second chapter as a draft while I thought I had posted it. Sorry for the mix! It must be 5 chapters in total with this update! Hope you enjoy :)

"You've become a gossip," Hermione shot at Nott while nicking his newspapers away. While passing behind him, she had seen the new article.

Ginny and Harry were out with Ron and his new girlfriend- someone Hermione didn't know. They had made it to the second page of the newspaper, again catching Rita Skeeter's attention.

It has been two weeks since the scandal of the affair. Two pressing weeks of crumpling parchment after parchment, not quite writing the exact words that would help Hermione to figure out Harry was okay. She needn't worry about him, she supposed.

"What do you say?" Nott asked off-handedly. They were together on a breakfast for a change. It was a weekend.

Hermione cleared her throat and added energy to her tone, which only came out high-pitched."They love each other."

Hermione had no idea whether the first article was true, the one about Harry getting into a fist fight. But Hermione guessed, it was only more likely that it had been a rumour.

"We love each other, and you cheat on me always. Talking and being friends with everyone else," complained Nott with humour shining in his eyes.

Hermione lightly shoved him sideways on shoulders and smiled. "Shut up."

He snickered and their talk easily switched to what they would do over weekend.

* * *

She returned to Grimmauld Place for Christmas holidays. It made sense to stay back at Hogwarts actually, but Hermione decided against it in a moment that her courage threw caution to the wind and convinced her that she had to see Harry. That she had missed him.

Of course, she had missed him!

"Harry?" she called, cleaning the sooth of her clothes after the Floo travel. "Harry, I'm home!"

It happened so fast. Hermione heard footsteps, sliding, something crashing (was that a vase?) and suddenly Harry was over the threshold of the hall. He lept in few strides to her, and next, her feet were off the ground.

"You're back!" His voice was muffled how his face was buried in both her hair and fluffly winter coat.

His arm circling around her put her back on ground, but Harry didn't release his tight hold still.

"Missed you," Hermione whispered. She was high above the clouds enveloped in his warmth and welcoming. How could she have been away from him so long?

"I missed you, too."

Finally, they broke apart. Harry led her to the kitchen and they talked over his preparation of supper. They took their food to the living room, though. Opting to share a couch and fill each other in about what they missed out.

"Theodore Nott? Really?"

Hermione nodded, swallowing the bite of her pasta. "Yeah, nice guy actually. I'll go over to his place on New Year. I'll be here with you on New Year's Eve, but…"

"You didn't mention that," came Harry's hurt retort.

There was a silence in which their forks clanging the plates became to loud. It was because both knew how Hermione hadn't owled since leaving Grimmauld Place. Not even once.

"I must have forgotten."

She wanted to say that she had to forget—move on. Get her mind in the game and find her own path in the wizarding world.

"So," Hermione started. Friends would always have something to talk about. She cringed at the topic she was going to venture on, but the two of them had nothing else to talk about actually.

Hermione repeated that lie to herself as her curiosity opened her mouth: "How's everything with Ginny?"

Raising her eyes to meet with Harry's popped ones, Hermione added nervously. "And with the Weasleys in general?"

That article about some absurd affair had been months ago. Hermione doubted that Harry remembered it to connect her reasoning.

"Well, the same I guess. She's with Harpies," Harry sighed. "And I'm looking for a job."

"Job?" Hermione was surprised to hear her friend hadn't been employed yet. She never pictured Harry having a job, but she remembered how idle he had been past summer even with occasionally having Ginny around.

Harry didn't like to read. He wasn't keen on going outside for a walk (Merlin curse them all but he would be caught by news reporters). And Quidditch was not an option by himself. There was little else to do in Grimmauld Place.

Noticing how the furniture and the rooms were different, Hermione understood easily that the place had been renovated and Harry must have been busy orchestrating the whole thing and shouldering its cleaning afterwards. There was not a speck of dust in the room.

Harry must be going mad here.

"What do you have in mind?" Hermione couldn't see Harry working, to be honest. Not that he was lazy or anything. It was just that no profession seemed to fit.

"I don't know. I'm looking around, that's all."

They talked some more about unrelated things. How their mutual friends were doing or whether they had heard from them…

When it was finally time to tell goodnight and retreat to her room, Harry's voice stopped her.

"Will you read tonight?"

Her moment of confusion must have been plain on her face as he explained. "Before going to bed, you always read. Light reading, you know."

At that he smiled, fondly recalling the books Hermione would have for her light reading.

"Yes, actually. I was reading this historical-fantasy novel…" Hermione left the sentence there seeing how his face brightened.

"May I read, too? I mean, read together? Out loud or something?"

Hermione hadn't read Harry books ever since the hunt. They both knew the tale of Three Brothers by heart.

"Okay, just let me—" Hermione's words died with her gasp as Harry quickly shot to his feet on her confirmation.

They got comfortable in her bed. This was much better than how they would share the hard and rough ground of a tree bark. Their backs would hurt and limbs would ache.

Here, in Hermione's room that had a four-poster bed, it was much easier to dive to the tales without the earthly distractions.

Hermione sat her pillow to the bedhead, and crossed her legs under the blankets. Harry too popped up his pillow, but he was more lying down and ready to sleep than her. His eyes were closed and glasses were discarded.

The hunch that Harry needed the comfort and soothing only, and not particularly for the book to be read lingered in Hermione's mind as she turned page after page.

Harry needed her.

* * *

"I won't lie, Granger. This is the daftest idea I've ever heard."

Hermione ignored Theo to the best of her abilities but he was insistent that Peeves would not help them find what they were looking for. Or whom, more like it.

It was on April first, ironically, when she first saw him. It was hard to recognize without the mark of ginger in his hair—how could that be, ghosts were merely transparent, no colour whatsoever.

By the time Peeves was delighted enough to tell them where to find what they came looking for, Hermione and Theodore were both wearing four puddings each. Cream filled ones. With different colours.

The house-elves whom Peeves had stolen the puddings from must have been furious!

Not as furious as Theodore.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled but managed to crook a smile. He sighed at that, whispering something about  _bloody Gryffindors_.

Hermione fingered some cream off his face to lighten the mood, "You taste amazing, though."

Since she turned around to head to the revealed location, she didn't see Theodore Nott's flushed cheeks and neck.

"Took you long enough," came the joyous but tired voice.

Hermione smiled from ear to ear, but one good look at the young man in front of him, her eyes started to water.

"Tiny Hermionekins is crying, is she?"

Hermione laughed, "No!" But she was crying. Happy tears they were. "Nice to see you, Fred."

* * *

"I should be in school," Hermione groaned. Hating everything about tonight. Maybe not her black long sleeved languid dress that had an alluring back décolletage, but the rest of tonight she didn't like one bit.

It was second of May. First anniversary of the end of the War.

They had given speeches, mourned the ones they loved, reflected on future with great expectations.

Hermione hated every second of it. It made her anxious. It made her head ache- heart ache. Sometimes the camera flashes were too bright. Her scar itched. There was a cackle in her head. Echoing. Echoing. And there came a voice: "We'll talk- girl to girl!"

Tonight made Hermione recall everything she tried hard to forget.

She wanted to be home. If she started her study, she could forget everything. She was positive she could.

One month was not enough till the exams, anyway.

"I think that's enough of appearances for you guys." The baritone voice was familiar but Hermionce couldn't place it. How unfocused she was with her sight, and her mind else where, it was a miracle she even heard the conversation around.

"Thank you, Kingsley. Now if you don't mind."

The hand on her back led her outside and the first lick of cold wind on her skin brought some sense to Hermione.

"Harry?"

Looking at him,  _seeing_  him, properly, Hermione couldn't hold back her tears.

Everything was over. In front of her was stood no boy with gangly arms and smooth face, but a young man of short beard, harsh eyes and better built.

His hair, the blackest she had ever seen, was a ghost of Sirius Black's with how long it was growing. Still quite unruly, unlike the older man's.

This year, in her absence, Harry had grown—changed.

His elastic tie hardly keeping his hair together, Hermione thought how there was still room for change. They were yet to be adults.

They had time—all the time in the world.

His arm came around her and before Hermione registered what was happening, the twist of Side-Apparition left her breathless.


	6. Chapter 6

She hadn't studied according to her study plans. All the hours of dividing her time, finishing her projects earlier and colour coding which subject to study had been for nothing.

After that May second celebrations, Hermione hadn't been herself. Not quite much.

Her irregular sleeping hours tipped off any plans she had made. Feeling sick most of the time, she could hardly sit upright let alone read and study. One week -she could swear it was a whole damn week- she had laid awake in her bed. Concentrating on the red of her curtains, reminding herself they were not the dusty grey of the Malfoy study room. There was no chandelier to count the candles on, nor were there patterns over the roof.

It took her one week to give in—the sleeping draught had always been in the beaded bag she still carried on herself.

She had prided herself for taking the medication once a month, it was indeed an achievement since Grimmauld Place. More accurately, since learning what had become of her parents.

Falling to sleep without having half of a vial was a dream now.

Hermione knew that she had to get her act together. But she couldn't- didn't. There were no people in the eight year Gryffindor girls' dormitory who would notice that she hadn't risen up for exams. It was only her.

Everyone else was stressed about their own exams, and the first assumption about Hermione Granger to be ever made was that she would have headed out to the exam hall early to be the first one in the room.

Not that day.

Hermione had indulged in her potion a tad too much.

She could not remember now. Lying in the soft mattress of the Hospital Wing, Hermione only knew that the sun peeking out the window did funny things on Theo's face.

He looked tired and worried with his eyes red and puffy. Had he... _cried_? He was fighting to stay awake, that was for sure. His lips in a cute pout, his fluttering eyes would snap open whenever his head failed to find the pillow it craved. It must be uncomfortable sleeping on a chair.

"Theo?"

Her raspy voice alerted him alright, but instead of the happy face she expected to see, Theo shot her the most hateful look.

"Don't do that. Ever again."

She wanted to be angry for his sharp voice but when he clasped her hand in his and rested his forehead on their joined hands, Hermione was only confused.

Then his shoulders started to shake and Hermione heard the sniffles.

His lips touched the back of her hand. Once, twice. Again. "I was so scared."

It didn't take longer than a heart beat, Hermione straightened herself. Wincing at her aching limbs and getting nauseous at the remaining taste of the medication on an empty stomach. Regardless, she rose enough to drape an arm around Theo's back and rest her own head against his.

She breathed his shampoo while stroking his back. It might have looked reverse for others, but Hermione felt comforted in their entangled position. Didn't even notice how long they stayed like that, as she felt less and less exhausted with every passing moment.

He was here for her. Theo had stayed here by her side.

Hermione didn't know what to say- what to think. He was probably skipping classes, with how early it was in the morning, or his study time for the—

"EXAMS!"

Her head cleared thanks to Madam Pomfrey's medications, shock and dread were quick to tug at her stomach. Oh, she could easily vomit all over Theo right now.

Wait, Theo—

"What are you doing here! We have exams! NOW! Don't tell me you are skipping-"

"Hermione, shut up."

Her eyes couldn't pop open even a tad more as Hermione was experiencing her one and only nightmare –skipping an exam!- but to say that Hermione's brain finally burned to a crisp was no understatement when she felt a strong hand circle around her neck and pull her down.

Their lips met in an unexpected welcome.

It was effortless for Hermione to close her eyes, feel the softness of his touch and give in to the wonderful sensation that was Theo's lips moving on her own, tongue seeking out hers and fingers massaging her scalp.

But this couln't be—she loved someone else. She couldn't –shouldn't- feel this way by Theo's advancement.

Why wasn't she slapping him? Shouting at him to move off of her?

Hermione's mind became a mush with her contradicting reasoning against what she  _felt_.

Breaking for air, Hermione mumbled, "Theo-I can't…"  _I'm in love with Harry._  That was a line she kept repeating to herself, one that used to soothe and depress her at the same time the past whole year.

Hermione sensed Theo's mood drop, but without her pulling away, keeping her hands exactly where they were, he didn't move either. They were in an embrace, Hermione's doubt creating a brittle wall between them.

This was nice. Theo was… Well, she liked him. She could fancy him, given the chance.

Thinking in a flash that Harry wouldn't give _her_  a chance in a million years –she  _was_  the best friend- Hermione decided she wouldn't do the same.

Dipping her head, she captured his lips in a sealing kiss. She would try things with Theo. She would happily accept his love. It was only natural to return such an intimate feeling. Right?

Their lips moving for what felt like hours, they finally broke away.

"We'll take the exams next year." Hermione opened her eyes at his voice, gasping for air in the mean while. His eyes were a mix of honey and green today; it was sun playing games on his hazel eyes but Hermione couldn't resist their pull. "And you will be under my close inspection, the whole time."

Smiling, Hermione did something stupid and glanced back at his lips.

He smirked. "You should rest now."

Theo closed his lips on hers once again and she was gently pushed back to her hospital bed. Once she was lying down properly, he gently pecked her again, but draping the blankets over her, he retook his place on the chair afterwards.

* * *

Harry didn't know anything about her Sleeping Draught accident. He didn't know she had owled a professional for help and had an appointment the day after her graduation.

He didn't know she would move in with Theo as she salvaged her parents' house from the shambles that it was now. He didn't know they were an item, Theo and Hermione.

They had spent the two weeks following the finish of the exams to explore the new stage of their relationship. It was still eating together at meals, sitting in the library or out in the gardens to read, or even the occasional Quidditch pitch trip (Theo liked to fly).

Their proximity had increased though. Their hands would be found entwined. Theo's head in her lap as she read aloud. And their lips interlocked at secluded corners.

Theo had braided her hair even.

That's why Hermione looked forward to sharing a romantic dinner together in celebration of their graduation.

Until she saw Harry attend the ceremony, that had been the case. Hermione had noticed his mess of black hair right away. His round glasses were a give-away even if his scar was hardly seen through the distance.

And it was his eyes.

He held her gaze in content and certainty, a sense of pride only Harry could show and her accept. It was something else. She knew everything from Harry meant so much more for her.

She dreaded breaking the news that she was graduating without any NEWTs.

Those were necessary to land a job but not finish Hogwarts, thus why she was crushed in Harry's arms with her diploma squashed between them.

"Congratulations, Hermione!"

She didn't meet his eyes. The second time her Gryffindor courage had let her down. She had sworn to Theo, and then herself, that she would not go down the potion route again.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

For the first time, the arm circling her back didn't give her comfort but made her jump.

It was Theo who was right beside her. His body was half-way towards her but he extended a hand at Harry still.

"Potter." As they shook hands, Hermione felt Harry's confused gaze on her closeness with Theo.

"Nott. Haven't seen you in awhile?"

"I guess you wouldn't." Theo shrugged, not elaborating or opening a new subject to talk about. The latter, Hermione had been wrong. "Let's remedy that, shall we? Harry should come to our dinner, right love?"

Hermione combusted and she chose that moment to meet Harry's eyes. His brows had shot up nearly to his hairline in shock. He had to correct his glasses that had dropped a tad, even.

"You two…"

Hermione timidly accepted Theo's chaste kiss on her temple, and wondered what happened to the conservative Pureblood she got to know over the year.

Although Theo was fine with holding hands and being familiar outside, he had been nothing but a gentleman wherever people were around. Stealing a kiss from him while he listened to her read, lying down in her lap, had been the most scandalous thing Hermione had achieved with him.

Recalling how he made snide comments about a couple who were snogging at a not-so-hidden-alcove –this was back when they were friends- Hermione knew a kiss on the temple in front of her long time best friend was something daring from the Slytherin.

"Yes." Hermione wanted to cover and save this immediately. If she didn't smooth this out, Hermione would find herself in a sorry position. With both males. "And it would be nice if you could come, too! You and Theo can get to know each other properly."

Harry's scowl didn't disappear through dinner. It got even worse when Theo found her hand over the table. Hermione didn't know why Theo wished to goad their relationship so much, but all she could think when his fingers were entwined with hers was just that she should have at least owled Harry.

The Weasleys have been removed from her close friends, but Harry was her family and everything.

At least he was her friend. He had come for her graduation, for Godrik's sake!

Hermione felt so guilty that night!

Wine didn't work to ease her nerves, Theo's thumb circling at the back of her hand didn't work, the parting smile from Harry didn't assure her- and all that sleep brought to her was restlessness and a pang in her heart.

* * *

Moving out from Grimmauld Place was harder.

"You're packing?" Harry had asked upon coming to check on her for all the noise she made.

"Yes. I'll move out." Hermione was packing her books so she didn't have the chance to turn to have a proper conversation with him.

When she finally did face him, he was not there by her door. She should have heard his feet shuffling away, but she didn't. She had been occupied feeling sorry for herself.

She and Harry would never happen. She was his best friend. Finally understanding that dynamic in their relationship, Hermione made peace with it.

Godric knew she had to- seeing Theo would be a horrible horrible mistake, otherwise.


	7. Chapter 7

"It's your home, too, you know." Theo mumbled it and at first she thought she didn't exactly hear him right because he talked over his meal. Then she realized he didn't quite meet with her eyes.

They sat across each other. The armchairs were a soft lavender in colour, with its back heavily carved with patterns that reminded Hermione of ancient palaces. If Theo hadn't opted for this sitting room, she wouldn't have dared sit in these furniture with how they seemed for decor than anything else.

It's been a month she moved in with him. It took her two weeks to properly empty her room in Grimmauld Place. Not that she had many belongings, the few she had were secured in her beaded bag still, but it was perhaps out of familiarity that she found herself in the old Black property.

Theo hadn't been much pressing with how she took her time. It was probably because she had actually shot him down after they left that professional she visited for her potion problem. She hadn't exactly contacted with him proper after that.

She had needed him with her. And it had been really considerate of him to ask to accompany her without her voicing it, one of Theo's many qualities that she couldn't help but like. He didn't come in with her, just waited out in the hall. Perfect gentleman, really.

Well, it was his fault for being noisy. She had been quite irritated with the consultant. She was a solemn witch of few words and not much comforting in her welcoming. Her lips succumbed to gravity in a way that Hermione found her always frowning whenever she glanced at the elder witch's way to navigate herself in the new situation.

She wouldn't have liked the woman even if she wasn't there to talk about the war, Hermione thought now. But back then, she had been there to talk about the war as a Muggle-born who had been right in the middle of the crossfire, so to speak, and it was only naturally that  _that_  topic needed an open mind to dig deep enough for her Sleeping Draught addiction to come to some understanding.

At the fourth comment about her blood-status, she left the facility. Complimenting on her abilities being extraordinary compared to her kind did little to make Hermione warm up to the witch.

Slamming the door to her office, she had a worried Theodore on her tow as she aimlessly rushed about in Diagon Alley.

He had grabbed her wrist to stop her. "You have to try harder than this. Quitting at the first session? Hermione just… try it again, yeah?"

Of course her eyes had shot daggers at those words. She had pulled her wrist out of his grip. "It has to always be me who's trying harder, isn't it?"

She didn't remember how they contacted again. Somehow Theo repaired their relationship to the point that she was able to finally move out from Harry's place.

Two weeks of being angry at Theo and his entitlement, at Harry and his mock-worry, at herself about her failings—God, she didn't even get her NEWTs! She wished to find a cure for her mother, not to mention! And finally, she was out the door of the Grimmauld Place and ready for a new life.

One thing Hermione has been proud of ever since the end of Hogwarts was that her owls with Madam Pomfrey and updating the elder witch on her decline in Sleeping Draught dosage (she was good with quarter of a potion once a week) were quite satisfactory.

She felt like she was getting her life back on track.

Moving in with Theo had also been a right choice. Sure, his  _Manor_ was odd to live in. Hermione didn't quite much like any room than the library (with the exemption of her own room) even habitable. But then again, it was nice to have Theo around to talk to. He had let her organize the basic studies they needed to cover for their exams and once it came time to make a schedule Theo joined in and it was like back in Hogwarts.

Well, of course, there were more heated looks and blushes and barest of touches…

Hermione blinked and looked at the young man she was content with sharing her life. He stared at the hearth, not meeting her eyes, but the flames illuminated his features clearly enough that she noticed he was demure and mildly distressed.

"I know. Here is my home," Hermione replied, words getting stuck in her throat. She reminded herself that Theo was her here and now. "I guess I'm just not used to house-elves cooking for me, and eating in that huge dining room."

Silence was met with her need to break it. "We were a family of three, never needed anything as extravagant. Whenever I was home, everything was as they should be. It was just enough, you know. That's why I want it back. My parents' house. Not that it's not nice in here-" –sometimes it was not- "- It's just that…"

Their food was forgotten by then of course, the heavier silence she drowned them in was not better. Shite. She was picking up everything about her life, but somehow those loose pieces never seemed to fit.

She felt a faint touch on her cheek and glanced back to Theo, leaving her thoughts alone. She desired to be less alone in her head, truthfully.

"We can change things. Like I did with your room. You can love this place, more than I do. I'd love it if you did. And maybe…"

"Ah, Theo…" Hermione's whisper was lost between his pleas as he came close to her with each word. The armchairs weren't that far away but at one point Theo stood up and circled around their small table to crouch in front of her.

"Maybe you can make me love it here more."

Hermione held his hand that gently grabbed her cheek, and when he rested his other hand by her neck she knew that she would feel more than his sweet breath on lips.

They were soft, warm and soft. She liked how he didn't rush anything and kissed her a second time, and a third and a fourth…

She wetted her lips and the motion didn't go unnoticed by Theo. "Hermione."

"Hmmm?" Words failed her at the moment.

He kissed her again but this time his tongue traced her lower lip and the new sensation sent a clench through her inner muscles way down her erratically beating heart.

Oh, Godric! This amazing feeling that she hasn't felt in so, so long! It would always be in her dreams and she would wake up with the remnants of second-hand experiences. She would never feel his grasp on her waist, his breath on her neck and beard scratching her skin…

"I want—" Theo rasped out and Hermione knew exactly how tonight would end. She wanted it also. She wanted to move on. She would make love to Theo and finally it would be nice in here, living in his Manor.

* * *

They shared a bed. Practiced non verbal spells, especially to Accio the pillows that would get discarded through the course of the night, and they would read a book of mutual choice.

During the day they would separate. It would be her renovations in her small town house and his family dealings with a consult that mostly had them apart.

They had Blaise Zabini over in the second month. First friend of Theo's Hermione ever met officially as his girlfriend, actually. They were courting, as she was informed by Theo one night when they had shared a bath.

When Zabini and Hermione had been alone, the former Slytherin was more than happy to inform that their courtship –living in the same house or whatever- was quite inappropriate in their society.

Knowing Theo well, their intimacy, however naturally, had been hard to familiarize with the young man she was acquainted with in Hogwarts. So she hadn't been surprised by Zabini's input on their relationship.

Knowing this about Theo, Hermione felt assured in an odd sense that these weren't only her firsts, though.

That and the wink that Zabini gave in encouragement, not to mention his comment to Theo, "Getting shagged looks good on you, mate." made it clear that their peer was not as opposed to the idea as say, the woman she currently conversed with.

She and Theo were attending the Prophet's foundation celebration together. Since its owners were a respected Half-blood family that apparently rose to its high regard through marrying with various esteemed purebloods (of course to their second or third daughters), the profile of attendees were quite very frequently the neutral bunch of the wizarding kind- the purebloods of them.

It hasn't been highly unpleasant per se. However, it only got more irritating as she came across more people who were decidedly happy of her role in the war in the way that it ended the war –regardless of the what that meant.

"Such small disputes, my young girl! We always said times were going worse, but for something like a _war_  to break! We are ever the more thankful for you and your friends. It's hard to find peace one requires in life."

She doubted the woman had been affected by the war by any far stretch.

Smiling at the woman politely and waiting for Theo to finish with her husband, Hermione wondered how long this would take. Theo had asked her to attend with him, but she hadn't expected this celebration to be as condensing.

Hermione wasn't used to this. She didn't want to stick around, to be honest.

"Excuse us, we should greet the McAvoys."

Theo promised later in the evening that once the winter came along there would be fewer occasions that they must attend.

Hermione restrained from saying  _they_  needn't 'must attend' anything.

Of course, Theo made up for the exasperating celebration by gossiping about the rather annoying people in attendance, cracking a joke whenever they were just the two of them or assuring her with the lightest of touches on her lower back.

Well, that same night was one to remember. Hermione easily found other uses for the tie Theo had to wear for the occasion.

* * *

One week later, quite unexpectedly, an owl came for Hermione.

It was from Ron and he invited her to Harry's surprise party. She had no idea what came over her childhood friend, but this was a nice gesture for their best friend.

Hermione decided it would be a good idea to attend. With Theo.

He readily agreed and only asked her when and where it would be. Hermione relayed the details from Ron and got to think about a present. It could be nothing less than perfect from Harry's best friend.

* * *

She found George to make it happen. Without him, Hermione doubted she could have witnessed Harry mouth dropping open in shock, his emerald eyes moving like the spinners as the golden patch reflected clearly both in his eyes and glasses.

It was hard to see the tiny smile that tugged at his lips though. If Hermione wasn't searching for it, she would have easily overlooked it in Harry's shaggy beard.

"Hermione, this…"

He had no idea what it was, she was positive. Her chest flared with pride for choosing the best gift Harry has seen of yet, but she would be far more pleased if she sealed the deal and explained exactly why he would love this the best.

It was a thick, leather wristband. Its braided outer edges were black while the smooth inside that was around five centimetres in width was the darkest brown. Nothing would be special about it if one didn't have the eye for it. Well, Harry's eyes were unique.

Hermione knew from day one that her friend was obsessed with anything gold, thus why becoming a Seeker to catch the Golden Snitch had been a second nature for him.

That was exactly what this wristband had: Golden Snitch.

It was an engraving of course, the size of ladybug at most. It was of real gold, mind you, and whenever it caught the light, it would reflect it like it did in Harry's eyes.

"It won't always be there. A bit like how the Chocolate Frogs work in that way. But whenever it is there, it will be so fast that if you are able to catch it, your success will be recorded."

George wasn't here today, so sadly Hermione had to tilt her head in the direction of the score board he had implemented just across their table herself. Ron had asked permission of George to turn the first floor of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes into a commendable dining area. Many of the Weasley products were shoved aside, some disturbed ones makes noises and lights still, but a place that could fit a table for a dozen had been cleared.

There were Ron, Ginny and Charlie. Neville and Patil twins, also Hannah Abbot and Zabini as plus ones. There were a few she didn't know but Hermione assumed they were friends from Auror department of Ron's or Harry acquaintances over the year she hadn't been in his life.

Not minding all those little details, Hermione watched in delight as Harry quickly put the wristband on and spun his head in the direction she showed.

It was George's idea to document Harry's catches. For Hermione, the wristband on its own could be a mindless time killing game for Harry. For George, however, who was finally getting himself back together with how he started seeing Alicia Spinnet, it was a splendid idea to record Harry's advancement and accept bets from Hogwarts kids over the Boy-Who-Lived's success.

Of course, that meant the Snitch didn't always aimlessly fly around the confines of Harry's wrist.

"It was George who came up with how to fix it. I helped of course, but I wouldn't have known about all those flying patterns for the Snitch he chose from the World Cups." Hermione was expecting now or sometime close for Harry to turn around and look at her. He would beam and she would reflect his smile. "George wanted me to pass to you… He says you wouldn't catch it five times before the end of the week. And night still counts, as I was informed."

"That's wicked! So, what, you just press it to catch or something?" Ron commented, taking a hold of Harry's wrist to take a better look at the gift.

Ironically, if it weren't for Ron's reaction, Hermione's gut told her that Harry wouldn't have turned around to face her.

Something was wrong with him.

"Happy birthday again, Potter." Theo congratulated with a smile. Hearing his voice and feeling his arm around her, Hermione realized she was here with him. How… _silly_  of her to forget.

Something was wrong with  _her_.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, glancing at Theo quickly with a smile on her face. She looked back at Harry with the same smile. "Happy birthday."

* * *

Hermione felt guilty that she was actually relieved that the renovations with her parents' house was nearly done. She could move out in two weeks. Thinking how only one week would be left for Christmas then, she would be lucky enough to unpack and enjoy a New Year with her loved ones in her brand new house.

The timing was right, she told herself. Nothing much was left than painting her bedroom and getting the electricity going in the place. Also she had to arrange some documentation through the Ministry so that the Aurors could take care of any Muggle criminal record regarding to the house –it was broken into in the absence of her parents and some legal dispute had occurred, as she had heard.

That could be done in no time and she could just move out.

Leave Theo here.

On his own.

Her boyfriend.

_Godric._

It should feel more troubling to leave him. She shouldn't be this happy. She should be heartbroken. She should feel  _something_.

Well, she did feel guilty. Because she absolutely felt nothing as she broke the news to her boyfriend of nearly six months now.

"That's great news! So you are planning to move your mother there with a special care-taker?"

Theo's assumption was a reasonable one, her silence was not.

"Well." Hermione knew he knew she had always planned to move back to her own house. But the easy way that proposition came out of his mouth showed Theo thought things had changed.

Had anything changed?

They were in a nice relationship.

Hermione unconsciously tipped her head the other way as if that could help her look at the situation in a different way, Theo's eyes were trained on her in the mean while.

Thinking back to these months she spent with the young man, Hermione thought how easy it was to talk with him. How much fun to joke. To make love. He was amazing in many ways… Like how he respected her boundaries, was considerate of her choices, supportive of her decisions. She acted same towards him. He had his family dealings to take care of. They would need to attend to some events now and again. She would comply with minimal complaints.

It just worked.

Considering this situation was like trying to solve a basic Arithmancy equation. Rather devoid of complexity, challenge or passion. Any feeling, for that matter.

Oh, Hermione was feeling guilty. Better not forget that.

How could she ever, when Theo's hazel eyes finally locked with hers and he asked: "She can- your mother can move here with us? I wouldn't mind- I mean; I would love that actually."

Now, her heart sunk even further because her brain repeated this one sentence: How could I've done this?

Observing Theo, how nervous he looked, and understanding that he is one step behind proposing to her for Merlin's sake, Hermione felt nauseated.

She didn't feel anything else.

Just guilty. She felt guilty that she didn't feel anything towards him.

He was nice and they worked, but Hermione didn't want this.

* * *

She crashed at the attic of the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes thanks to George. He came up with the idea when she moved out from Theo's place.

That was an awful memory she didn't want to relive again. She could take Bellatrix torturing her for hours but not Theo's gut wrenching scream that tore her ears: "GET OUT!"

There were many more sentences exchanged before that and all were said explicitly to hurt her. He had all the right. She knew this while her heart bled for him.

Unlocking the door, Hermione finally admit to herself maybe this was the new start she was looking for.

Not some new relationships, jobs or friendships. Not when her past was filled with sorrow and unfinished business.

Stepping inside the newly decorated house that looked unlike how it was back when her parents lived here, Hermione couldn't help the smile turning her lips.

She could start anew. She would have her NEWTs this June and until then she could try her chance with Muggle colleges.

It was always best to have one's options open.

* * *

It took some time for the news of their break up to find its place on the front page of the Prophet. There was a picture of Theo on his own in a gala on the Christmas Eve. And one more on the New Year's.

At least they had waited until they were positive that the rumour was true.

Hermione disdainfully scrunched her nose at what Skeeter wrote but it took her a quick skim over to skip the page and continue with her paper. In ten minutes, it was in the trash all together.

After that, it was back to her routine of cooking for lunch, doing her daily review of her studies and researching about Muggle universities.

The last one Hermione was giving up on the idea of with how difficult it looked to catch up with the difference in the curriculum and nothing seemed to fit her main aim of current which was to cure her mother.

Once she got her NEWTs, becoming a Healer or researching in Charms could perhaps give her ample time and resources to focus on that task.

Hermione still went through her list of universities, though. Just to be sure that she didn't pass by any worthwhile opportunities.

It was nearing evening and hearing the doorbell ring, Hermione grabbed her purse to open it. She was expecting pizza, actually. She was lazy to cook today. And cooking charms hadn't been her forte ever.

"Coming!"

She blinked to register the young man who stood by her door. For a moment, he was a stranger to her. Jeans and dark grey jumper hidden underneath a brown long loden coat and thick boots were what he wore. As he was looking down on his feet, Hermione first noticed his black hair was long and tied at the back.

"Excuse me-"

At her voice, he met with her eyes and she would know those emerald eyes anywhere.

"Harry?" He was more or less how she remembered him from his birthday. His cheeks looked fuller, as though he put on some weight but she couldn't be sure with his beard. He was becoming messy. And she liked it.

Embarrassment burning her face, Hermione shook her head to focus on her friend. "What are you doing here?"

Actually she wanted to ask what was wrong with him. There was definitely something different. She couldn't pinpoint what. Sure, Harry was no longer the boy she knew as her best friend from Hogwarts, but he was not completely someone brand new either.

"It's the glasses," he breathed out and only then did Hermione realise her forehead hurt because her deep scowl. "I'm trying contact lenses, but honestly, they are not worth the trouble."

"You haven't checked any spells?"

She should have done that rather than learning  _Oculus Reparo_  first thing back when she was young.

"Came up empty-handed."

"You won't find that in the Restricted Section—" Hermione started to say with how she knew of Harry's certain research habits but she cut herself off after mimicking his snicker.

"I'm the worst!" she shrieked all of a sudden, becoming aware they were standing by her door. "Come in! I was just waiting for pizza to arrive."

She took his coat and let him in, but after that there was a silence that none of them had experienced for sometime.

The two of them had not been alone together for the past half a year.

Hermione picked a topic, anything, that could lighten the mood. She found it hard to swallow.

"I heard George gave a prize to this Slytherin kid who has been winning bets 9 weeks on a row- for you Snitch score, that is."

Harry made a noncommittal sound but he didn't turn around. They awkwardly stood in her sitting room, Hermione's mind coming blank for something to talk about.

Wiping his face, Harry faced her not long after.

"You and Nott broke up."

It was a statement. Hermione nodded anyway. She didn't trust her voice. Was she supposed to get wild ideas from this?

Well, she obliged.  _What had Harry come here for? Out of no where? And first thing he asks is my relationship? Don't tell me… Did he hit his head or did I? I'm dreaming—no I'm just jumping to conclusions…_

"Harry?"

Her question was answered by his long strides and he was right across from her. Just a breath away to touch.

He didn't look in her in the eyes. His hands twitched as he was unsure what to do with them. He cleared his throat many times and his hands went to his hair… to pluck the strands off, perhaps?

Groaning, his hands found her cheeks instead and even through her hair that was trapped in between her face and his hands, she could feel the warmth of his palms.

"I was wondering…" At this he looked straight into her eyes. Hermione couldn't help but realize how thick his eyelashes were. She had never noticed because of the glasses. "You. Me. Eating outside, or going to cinema? Anything, really?"

Hermione felt her breath catch and she had to calm her nerves to answer in anyway. This couldn't be…

"You mean…"

He nodded but his smile was something wicked. As was the sparkle in his eyes. "You know it, Miss Granger."

"I do." It felt as though she was agreeing to a proposal. Her face combusted at the thought and she chastised herself for getting too far ahead.

"Good." Harry whispered again. "Then it's game to do this."

His hands guided her face so that his lips met hers in a crash that set Hermione off balance. Taking a few steps back to remedy her balance, she felt Harry's arms around her waist immediately.

Regardless, her back hit to the door while Harry smiled to her lips. He pecked in between words.

"I wanted to do this. Dreamt of it. Always felt impossible."

Hearing that, Hermione gently pushed him back but she couldn't wipe the smile of her face. Was she really hearing all of that.

It was hard to know how her brain closed itself off after that very first touch of their lips.

She was still able to ask this though: "You were with Ginny."

If anything had happened, it could have happened in the hunt. After the Battle, there had always been Ginny.

"I was. It's over. Finished that summer you left me."

"I didn't leave you! You were with Ginny!" Hermione insisted, able to stomp her foot regardless of their proximity.

Harry chuckled. "You left for Hogwarts. Ginny and I were not working and split by that last week you refused to talked to me, remember that time, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed guiltily but she refused to look away. "You two were cosy, as I remember it."

"She was cosy with others, as well."

That was said with a scowl that shut Hermione up. Harry put her hair back her ear just like he used to. He wanted to dissipate this resentment.

"Anyway, Hermione that is the past. As well as Nott, I hope? It wasn't the best feeling of the girl I had a crush on to visit me during Christmas to tell me how she would be visiting some other guy shortly… then I learn at your graduation that you two are…something. Whatever. Reading your break-up is the only thing Prophecy has been good for till now."

Hermione swatted his upper arm. "Harry James Potter!"

"What? Maybe I'm only happy that it wasn't somehow about me? As the most eligible bachelor, most of the affairs have my name in it, you know."

They giggled but as their smiles relaxed, Hermione couldn't help but realize how Harry's eyes would glance at her lips.

She watched him dip his head, still unbelieving but wishing this to not be merely her dream.

To say that the doorbell rung her awake of the dream was no understatement. But Harry was still there, she in his embrace and he so close that Hermione knew not whether they were not one person all together.

"Pizza service!" the muffled voice came behind the door she currently leaned on.

Harry pecked her lips and added as he made to open the door, "Dinner it is!"

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand wrapped up at the 7th chapter! It is indeed a lucky number xP I hope you've enjoyed and I'm curious as to your thoughts.
> 
> This is my second finished WIP and I will gladly label it as 'Completed'. Hope to see all of you in my other WIPs or upcoming stories. None of them are Harmony as of the moment, but I can be convinced ;D
> 
> Take care!
> 
> ~Ydream08


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